September 1st was a day Hermione both looked forward to and feared. Breakfast was quiet, with everyone wrapped up in their own thoughts. After they ate, Hermione's luggage was packed into the car, and the Granger family headed to King's Cross station. Kids everywhere were on their way to school, some for the first time, unsure of what to expect. Others happily caught up with friends they hadn't seen all summer, excitedly swapping stories of their adventures. Some just walked back to school for another long year of learning.
Driving past, Hermione watched these children and pondered, 'What will my first encounter with the magical world be like? I feel just like a newbie, a first-grader who knows nothing.' Meanwhile, she reassured herself that all would be well. She also decided to carry herself with the confidence of a seasoned wizard so that no one would guess her fears or doubts.
The Grangers got to the station a little earlier than planned. After parking the car and grabbing Hermione's bags, they went inside. The morning was busy with people rushing about. Announcements about train arrivals and departures blended into the continuous noise of the bustling crowd. People were hurrying, passing by one another. Some were bidding farewells, others were greeting friends, and some, like the Grangers, stood unsure, trying to decide their next move.
Hermione suddenly realized she had no idea where they were supposed to meet the Ministry representative. She looked around for any clue. As she scanned the station, her gaze caught unusual scenes. Here and there, she noticed groups of people who subtly stood out.
They were adults with children, lugging huge suitcases, and sometimes even cages with animals or birds. They spoke quietly, exchanged meaningful looks, and occasionally glanced around cautiously. All were heading to the same place – the platform between nine and ten. Before knowing about wizards and the magical world, Hermione might not have noticed this, but now everything looked different.
A light bump from a boy running past snapped her back to reality. He had accidentally brushed her with his backpack and hadn't even noticed.
"Sweetie, where do we go from here?" Emma asked, looking slightly confused. "Did Mr. Bridge mention anything?"
Hermione glanced around once more. Seeing no one who looked like they worked for the Ministry of Magic, she confidently said, "Follow me." She headed toward the same direction where all the peculiar groups were going.
But she had barely taken a few steps when a thin, squat man suddenly appeared in her way, as if out of nowhere. He was dressed in a worn tailcoat, with a top hat on his head and a monocle in his right eye. His mouth, framed by a thin mustache, slightly stretched into a semblance of a smile as he spoke with feigned politeness in a hoarse voice:
"Miss Granger, if I'm not mistaken?"
"Yes, that's me," Hermione recoiled slightly from the unexpected encounter.
"I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long?" he said indifferently, then added, "Theodore Flibust from the Ministry of Magic, at your service."
"Nice to meet you," Hermione replied, though she didn't find it pleasant at all. This wizard seemed to be the complete opposite of Gareth Bridge, who had been with them before. Unlike the friendly wizard with a noble demeanor, Theodore Flibust seemed more like a disgruntled clerk, clearly unhappy with his duties. Each of his words carried an air of insincerity.
"John Granger," Hermione's father approached the ministry official and extended his hand. Mr. Flibust hesitantly shook it, then quickly stepped back and wiped his palm with a handkerchief before saying:
"Well then, please follow me to platform nine and three-quarters."
"What platform?" Hermione was surprised, but the ministry official didn't respond, quickly heading towards the platform she had already found suspicious. Hermione and her parents hurried after him.
They walked in silence for a few minutes, trying to keep pace with Mr. Flibust, who marched ahead without looking back. Finally, they arrived at platform nine, and the ministry official stopped abruptly. Turning to Hermione's parents with a condescending look, he dryly asked:
"Do you want to say goodbye to your daughter?"
"Yes, of course," Emma Granger replied, somewhat surprised.
"Then this is your chance. I'm afraid you can't go any further," Mr. Flibust said with a hint of scorn in his smile.
Emma hugged Hermione tightly and didn't hold back her tears. John stood by, his face tense and grim, his eyes reflecting an internal struggle. He tried to appear calm, but his deep sighs betrayed his anxiety.
"Please write to us as often as you can," her mom gently reminded her, "and remember to brush your teeth every day." Even in these tough moments, her dentist's habits shone through.
"I promise, Mom," Hermione smiled back, feeling a mix of excitement and reluctance to leave her family. She was not only nervous about leaving but also unsettled by Mr. Flibust's coldness and his open disdain for Muggles. She was becoming more convinced that the magical community might not always be welcoming to her.
John, fighting his own nerves, tried to give his daughter a reassuring look.
"Be brave, as we know you are, Hermione," he said, his voice shaking with emotion.
Hermione nodded in response. Just then, Mr. Flibust checked his watch and, allowing no more time for farewells, announced:
"It's time to go, Miss Granger."
Hermione pulled herself together, took one last look at her parents, and with a heavy heart, followed her escort. The ministry official walked a few steps ahead and stopped by the barrier between platforms nine and ten.
"Now, you just need to walk through this wall, and you'll be on the right platform," he explained briefly.
"Through the wall?" Hermione was surprised again.
Mr. Flibust rolled his eyes and then, speaking very slowly as if explaining to a small child, said:
"Just follow me, Miss Granger, keep going, and you'll see." With that, he turned and walked straight through the wall.
Momentarily stunned, Hermione quickly snapped out of it and ran after him, pushing her trolley ahead. When she came out on the other side, she crashed right into Mr. Flibust, knocking him off his feet.
"Oh, sorry!" she exclaimed, startled.
Mr. Flibust's eyes briefly flared with anger before returning to their usual indifferent expression. He groaned as he got to his feet, brushed himself off, and looked at Hermione coldly, saying:
"No harm done," his voice mixing insincerity with barely concealed disdain.
Then he spoke even more formally than before:
"Here we are at platform nine and three-quarters, Miss Granger. You just need to get on this train." He gestured to a train nearby that looked like a steam locomotive from the last century, marked 'Hogwarts Express.' "Have a good trip!"
With that, Mr. Flibust twisted his face into what was supposed to be a smile and stepped back through the wall. Hermione stood alone, her bags and suitcase scattered around her, which had fallen off the trolley during the collision. "Welcome, Hermione," she whispered to herself, staring bewilderedly at the wall through which the ministry official had vanished.
***
Soon after, Hermione found herself in a compartment with three other students about her age. The train had just left the station, and a long journey to Hogwarts was ahead. Hermione entered the compartment feeling upset; the day had not gone as she had hoped. Her parents were far away, while the ministry official had left a very unpleasant impression. Her first steps into the world of magic hadn't gone well. Hermione sighed, trying to distract herself from her thoughts, and looked around.
Next to her, by the window, a girl with black curly hair sat deep in thought, quietly watching the landscape speeding by outside. Her stunning facial features and graceful posture lent her an air of elegance and refinement. Seeing her, Hermione thought, 'She's different from the others. There's something special about her.' This girl reminded Hermione of princesses from fairy tales, and she smiled at the thought before turning her gaze to the boy sitting opposite the 'princess.'
The round-faced boy with closely cropped hair looked very unsure of himself, making Hermione want to offer him reassurance. On his lap was a large frog. Hermione initially scowled in surprise, but then remembered that frogs were also allowed as pets at Hogwarts. 'I guess in the wizarding world, having a frog as a pet is pretty normal,' she concluded and from then on, she ignored the frog.
Across from Hermione sat a red-haired girl. Her hair brushed her shoulders, and her bright blue eyes and slightly pointed nose gave her a distinct look. Her bright red handbag was just as striking. The girl was looking around at the others with curiosity. Catching Hermione's eye, she smiled warmly and extended her hand:
"Nancy Magworth," she introduced herself.
"Hermione Granger," Hermione replied, shaking her hand.
"Granger?" Nancy raised an eyebrow, "I haven't heard that surname before. I've studied the genealogies of many magical families and was sure I knew most of them! What do your parents do?"
"They're dentists," Hermione answered, feeling a wave of tension.
"Dentists??? Is that a department in the Ministry of Magic?" Nancy looked puzzled.
"No, my parents aren't wizards. They treat people's teeth," Hermione explained, managing a small smile.
A look of surprise crossed Nancy's face, and she turned away, staring out the window as if trying to conceal her emotions. Hermione's irritation grew. She had faced Muggle prejudice before, and now she realized it extended to their children too.
"What's the problem?" She challenged.
All eyes in the compartment turned to Nancy. Sensing the growing tension, she slowly and reluctantly said:
"My parents believe Muggles can't have wizard children. And even if they do, they... shouldn't attend Hogwarts."
"So which school should they attend then?" Hermione asked sharply.
It seemed Nancy hadn't thought about that, but a dark-haired girl sitting next to Hermione saved Nancy from having to reply.
"In my opinion, it's all just prejudice," she suddenly said. "If someone has magical abilities, they're obviously a wizard. Anything else is just envy from less talented wizards."
"And who might you be?" Nancy snapped, clearly stung by the comment. "Another Muggle-born?"
"No, my name is Miranda Ravenclaw," the girl replied with poise.
A look of both admiration and irritation crossed Nancy's face. The boy with the frog also gaped at Miranda, open-mouthed.
"Is that like the house at Hogwarts?" Hermione couldn't resist asking.
"Yes, exactly," Miranda answered, with a hint of pride in her voice.
"Well, then I know where you'll be sorted," Hermione said with a smile.
"Really?" Miranda replied in a slightly ironic tone.
But her voice lacked the condescension or dislike that Nancy's had. 'Miranda's right, magic is inside us, no matter where we come from,' Hermione thought confidently. Meanwhile, Nancy seemed to be wrestling with herself. Finally, she defiantly asked:
"What about our traditions?" addressing Miranda and pointing at Hermione. "She clearly knows little about our world. People like her bring Muggle habits, not enriching our magical world."
"I'm almost sure that's exactly what your parents say," Miranda commented with a friendly smirk. "But what do you think about it?"
Nancy hesitated. It was clear that Miranda had hit the mark, recognizing Nancy's parents' words in her speech.
"Well… I… reckon my parents are right," Nancy muttered, then pulled a copy of 'Wizard Chic' magazine from her handbag and hid behind it from the others in the compartment.
Miranda's support came just in time. Hermione had already met several wizards who scorned Muggles. So, seeing someone supportive of people like her was crucial for her peace of mind.
Then, Hermione's attention turned to the round-faced boy fussing with his frog. Nothing was known about him yet, but he didn't look like he would mind meeting a Muggle-born witch.
"What's your name?" Hermione asked him.
Looking up from his frog, the boy met her gaze.
"Neville Longbottom," he responded hesitantly and quickly looked down, embarrassed.
It appeared that his name was also recognized in the wizarding world, as Miranda looked at him curiously. Hermione remembered something about the last magical war involving the Longbottoms. After she discovered Harry Potter's story, she had ordered many books on the recent history of the magical world and had thoroughly researched the topic. Suddenly, a memory hit her:
"Your parents…" she blurted out impulsively, "they… they…"
Neville's parents had been among the last casualties of that war, meaning he was an orphan…
"Yes," the boy murmured quietly, then went silent.
A hush fell over the compartment as everyone was lost in thought.
***
A couple of hours had passed since the train left the station. Everyone in the compartment was occupied with their own things. Miranda was knitting a delicate scarf and enjoying the landscapes passing by the window. Neville devoted all his attention to his frog, showing a deep attachment to his pet. Nancy was engrossed in a magazine about magical fashion. Generally, there wasn't much conversation in their compartment.
At first Hermione too was quietly reading a book, but her thoughts kept wandering to the new, unknown world she was about to enter. Eventually, she set the book aside, deciding to walk around the train. As she walked past the open doors of other compartments, Hermione saw different scenes: some were laughing and sharing stories, others were having spirited debates or sharing magical treats, likely purchased from a passing witch with a cart.
In one of the carriages, Hermione stumbled upon a scene that instantly caught her interest. At the center was a pale boy with light hair, surrounded by a large group of kids. Curious, Hermione moved closer to hear what the light-haired boy was saying.
"...and my dad's an important person at the Ministry of Magic," he said, his voice exuding confidence and a hint of arrogance. "Minister Fudge often seeks his advice." He paused to let the significance of his words sink in among the kids around him, then continued, "I'm sure that at Hogwarts, this is well known, and I will be treated with the respect I deserve."
The other children, clearly envious, nodded in agreement, fully believing that his family's influence would secure this boy a special status at the school.
'So, even here, predictably, the status of one's parents matters,' Hermione thought, remembering Barbara and her father. 'I wonder what's so important that his dad does at the ministry?'
"If you're looking for powerful friends at Hogwarts—stick with me," the boy boasted, puffing out his chest. "Then you'll be in the right circle, and you'll get a taste of true influence." He then turned to one of the bigger kids in the group and asked, "What's your name? You seem like a decent wizard."
"Crabbe," came the gruff but proud reply.
Hermione sized up the speaker with a critical eye. He looked more like the leader of a school gang than a worthy wizard. He would have fit right in with Jake's friends from her previous school.
"And this is Goyle," Crabbe said, pointing at another boy about his size. "He's my friend."
"Crabbe and Goyle, remember these names," the blond boy announced. "They're going to be great wizards one day."
All the teenagers around him looked at Crabbe and Goyle again as the pale boy continued, now directly addressing the two:
"I'm sure you realize," he said with a confident smirk, "that sticking with me means guaranteed protection, connections, and, of course, respect."
Crabbe and Goyle exchanged glances and nodded in agreement. Hermione noticed how the blond boy carefully watched everyone's reaction, gauging the impact of his words. Some of the kids started copying his posture, while others seemed embarrassed and unsure but still nodded, trying not to stand out from the crowd.
A thought flashed through Hermione's mind: 'This looks like recruitment for his gang.' She too was eager to make friends quickly at Hogwarts but disliked the idea of 'buying' friendships through parental influence. She turned and hurried back to her compartment.
A rather odd scene awaited her there. Neville was on his knees, searching for something under the train seats, while the girls watched him with obvious displeasure.
"What's happening here?" Hermione asked, surprised.
Neville stood up, looking unsure, and replied:
"I've lost my toad again. It keeps running away from me. Maybe I'm doing something wrong?"
Hermione confidently stated:
"Don't worry, we'll find it. It couldn't have jumped out of the moving train."
Neville shrugged, and Hermione immediately got to work. They searched the compartment thoroughly once more. Not finding any sign of the toad, Hermione asked Neville whether the compartment door had been left open while she was away. It turned out that a witch selling magical treats had come by, and the toad had disappeared right after her visit.
"Then it's clear!" Hermione quickly deducted. "There's no point in searching here; it probably escaped outside while you were picking something tasty."
Neville's expression was full of guilt about what had happened. 'I hope he's not about to start apologizing,' Hermione thought. She decisively stopped his self-blame, took his hand without saying a word, and led him out of the compartment. They set off to find Trevor, Neville's toad.
Hermione and Neville walked along the narrow corridor, heading toward the back of the train. They took turns peeking into compartments, asking if anyone had seen a toad. The responses they got were as varied as the students themselves. Most just said 'no,' sometimes with irritation, annoyed by the interruption. Some even told them to get out. There were also plenty of mocking comments. At Hogwarts, toads were seen as the pets of losers, so some students tried to console Neville by saying, "If it ran away, that's great! You should be glad it's gone!"
With each step, Hermione grew more annoyed and decided they needed to be more assertive if they wanted to be taken seriously. When she entered each compartment, she struck what she thought was a confident pose and asked her question in a firm, no-arguments tone. The number of jokes decreased, but the irritated responses became more frequent. Hermione didn't let that stop her; she kept moving toward her goal. Near the end of the train, she followed Neville into another compartment and firmly asked:
"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."
There were two boys in the compartment, clearly first-years. One was pretty skinny with black hair and glasses, and the other was a freckled redhead. The redhead was holding a magic wand when Hermione and Neville peeked in. He was the one who spoke up:
"We've already told him we haven't seen it."
But Hermione's attention had already shifted from the toad to the magic wand. Her interest in magic flared up, and she said:
"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it then," and she took a seat in an empty spot.
The redhead grew nervous. It seemed he wasn't used to performing spells in front of others. He cleared his throat, mumbled some strange-sounding words, and waved his wand. Hermione was surprised; everything she had learned about magic was quite different from what this kid was trying to do.
"Are you sure that's a right spell?" she asked. "Well, it's not very good, is it?"
Wanting to impress the newcomers and prove she was a real witch, Hermione started talking about her self-study experience. She explained how she had read tons of books on magic, learned spells, and even mastered a few. Once she felt she had made a good impression, she decided to introduce herself:
"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"
"I'm Ron Weasley," the redheaded boy muttered, frowning.
"Harry Potter," the other boy replied.
"Are you really?" Hermione gave him a careful look. "I know all about you, of course…"
Hermione demonstrated her extensive knowledge again, this time about Harry Potter himself. After impressing him even more with her insights, she suddenly remembered Neville and his missing toad:
"…Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two would better change. I expect we will be there soon."
With that, Hermione got up, and she and Neville headed back. They quickly reached their compartment and, moving forward, started asking everyone about Neville's toad again. As they got closer to the front of the train, Hermione suddenly heard loud shouts coming from the next carriage. Sensing something might be wrong, she walked over, opened the door, and was surprised by what she saw.
Kids were peeking out from every compartment, shouting, stomping, and whistling. All eyes were fixed on the middle of the empty corridor, where a large toad was sitting. For a moment, Hermione thought the toad had scared all the kids into hiding in their compartments, but she quickly realized her mistake. At the other end of the carriage stood two tall, identical redheaded boys who looked a lot like Ron Weasley. One of them, trying to be heard over the noise, called out:
"Last bets, ladies and gentlemen! Just one minute left in the race. Will our jumper make it to the end of the carriage on time?!"
The second redhead was sending sparks from his magic wand toward the toad, trying to get it to move. Suddenly, the toad, which had been sitting still, sprang into action, hopping quickly toward Hermione. She even got a little startled.
"TREVOR!" Neville shouted, darting out from behind Hermione and skillfully catching the toad as it leapt toward him.
The train car exploded with deafening cries. Some kids raced toward the red-headed twins to claim their prizes. Others started yelling that the contest was ruined by Hermione and Neville showing up.
"How dare you steal someone's toad and then torture it with your stupid contests!" Hermione suddenly shouted, her voice cutting through the noise in the carriage. She stepped forward, glaring at the red-haired boys. "That's not what Hogwarts students should be doing!"
For a second, everyone went quiet. A few kids looked surprised, but most took her words as a good joke. Without missing a beat, they immediately began to egg on Hermione and the red-haired twins. Someone from the crowd shouted:
"Come on, newbie, show them! It is unacceptable to use a toad for racing! What a couple of scoundrels!"
Others, on the contrary, addressed the ginger boys:
"Shame on you, Weasleys! Apologize immediately for what you've done!"
The carriage was filled with even more noise and laughter than before. Hermione's outburst just seemed to make things more fun, and nobody took her seriously. Her face turned red with anger. 'Weasleys! I knew it! So, their resemblance to Ron wasn't just my imagination!' Hermione thought while the jokes kept flying around her. Meanwhile, the Weasley twins exchanged grins. One of them stepped forward and, with a mocking bow, said:
"Oh, forgive us, Mrs. Filch! We beg your pardon for our terrible Hogwarts manners... please be kind to us," he finished in a voice that almost sounded like he was about to cry, striking an additional ironic bow. The smirk never left his face. The other twin, lowering his eyes, tried to look like he felt guilty.
Hermione snorted, her eyes flashing with anger. She spun around and stormed out, leaving those unworthy clowns without a response. 'I wonder who Mrs. Filch is?' she thought. 'Probably not someone they really like.' Laughter and loud chatter kept coming from the train carriage behind her. She could still hear kids shouting, "Mrs. Filch, where are you going? Don't leave, punish the Weasleys!"
'Don't worry, I will!' Hermione thought. Then she said to Neville:
"How can they act like this? And they're supposed to be senior students!"
As they walked back to their compartment, Hermione was boiling with indignation, voicing her thoughts about the twins' behavior. Neville, holding the toad and gently petting it, occasionally nodded in agreement. He was starting to be more afraid of this angry girl than those red-haired boys.
"I think we need to report this kind of behavior! Do you know if there's a teacher here? Or someone in charge of keeping order on the train? Maybe the conductor?" Hermione continued her rant. "And all those kids, not one of them tried to stop the Weasleys; they just laughed and joined in." Neville just shrugged again.
To be honest, he didn't really want to go complaining to anyone. Plus, getting into a quarrel with other students on the first day, especially with upperclassmen, didn't seem like a smart move. He tried to talk Hermione out of it:
"Maybe we shouldn't tell the teachers?" he said quietly. "Trevor's fine, we found him. They probably won't try to steal him again."
Hermione stopped, lips pressed tightly together, and shot Neville a look of disapproval.
"This is totally unacceptable!" she snapped. "Are you scared of them? You can't let them get away with this and face no consequences!"
With that, Hermione walked off, making it clear that the conversation was over, and she'd take care of it herself. A grumpy Neville trailed behind her.
Leaving Neville in the compartment, Hermione set off to find teachers, or at least someone who could do something about those troublesome Weasleys. She walked through the whole train, right up to the front, and even checked in with the driver. He couldn't help with punishing the Weasleys, but he did share some interesting details about the train and its unique design.
Hermione was surprised to learn that, despite how it looked, the train didn't run on steam but was powered entirely by magic. Its appearance, unchanged for over a hundred years, was designed to avoid catching the attention of Muggles. In those early days, when distraction spells weren't so great, the train's old-fashioned look was a good way to keep the wizarding world hidden.
After spending an interesting half-hour in the driver's cabin, Hermione headed back. As she passed the first carriage, it suddenly hit her: this was the Prefects' carriage! 'This is where I might find someone to keep the Weasleys in check,' she thought. She quickly turned around and approached a dark-haired guy who looked like he was in charge.
"Excuse me," she began with determination, "could you help me? Are you a Prefect?"
"Yes," the guy replied, looking at her. "What's going on?"
"Do you happen to know the Weasley twins?" Hermione asked, getting straight to the point.
"Of course I do," the boy replied with a slight smirk. "Who doesn't know them?"
"What house are they in? And who's their Prefect?" Hermione could hardly contain her impatience.
"Gryffindor," the boy said. "And their Prefect... is their brother, Percy Weasley. Why do you ask?" His voice now had a note of curiosity.
Hermione paused for a moment. 'Percy Weasley? Their brother?' she thought, stunned. It all made sense now. 'That's why they don't worry about consequences. Percy probably just lets things slide... Maybe I shouldn't make trouble with him if I want to get into Gryffindor,' she decided. Then Hermione noticed that the dark-haired boy was still waiting for her answer.
"Oh, it's nothing serious. I was just curious. I'm also hoping to get into Gryffindor. It'd be cool to be in the same house as them," she lied and quickly moved on.
Hermione realized that punishing the Weasleys might not be so easy. Plus, her anger had cooled, and she no longer felt a strong urge to deal with those boys. Soon, the train began to slow down, and Hermione set aside the toad incident, getting more nervous as they got closer to Hogwarts.
***
When the train stopped with a quiet groan, Hermione stepped onto the platform, and her eyes immediately fell on a huge man with a pretty intimidating appearance. He towered over everyone on the platform, even a bit taller than the train. This giant was waving his arms like a windmill in a storm, calling out to the kids in a booming voice that echoed across the platform:
"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here!"
The smallest and most vulnerable Hogwarts students gathered around him from all directions. Hermione's heart skipped a beat in fear, but she forced herself to think logically: 'Hogwarts would never allow someone dangerous near its students.' Besides, other students were passing the giant without a second thought, and some even greeted him cheerfully. She remembered seeing a similar giant in Diagon Alley, and as she looked closer, she realized it was likely the same person. Feeling slightly relieved, she joined the other first-years, eyeing the giant with caution.
He didn't seem quite as scary now. But he was still massive, and his wild mop of hair and beard didn't exactly make him look friendly. The giant wore a huge old coat, and his boots were so big that they reached up to Hermione's waist.
Once Hagrid—that was his name—had gathered all the first-years around him, he led them along a narrow path through a forest shrouded in night. Hermione walked beside Neville, trying not to trip in the near-total darkness.
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid's voice suddenly called out to them. "jus' round this bend here."
When they reached the lake, the world suddenly opened up before Hermione in all its magical beauty. The castle, towering on a rocky outcrop, was glowing with lights that reflected off the dark waters of the lake. Gasps and exclamations of awe spread along the shore, and Hermione felt the excitement building up in her again. It was like a fairy tale, and she was about to enter the most magical castle in the world.
"No more'n four to a boat," the giant's voice boomed.
Hermione quickly pulled Neville toward the nearest boat, where Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were already seated. 'I wonder how many Weasleys are at Hogwarts,' Hermione thought, giving Ron a slightly unfriendly glance. It seemed he wasn't too happy to see her again, either.
They were sailing across the lake, heading straight toward the castle, its silhouette outlined against the dark sky. The boats were gliding silently across the water, guided by some unseen force. Hermione, already getting used to the extraordinary things in this world, wasn't surprised by this magic, accepting it as part of her new reality.
Soon, the boats entered a dark tunnel that led to an underground dock. Hagrid, after gathering all the kids, led them to an ancient stone staircase that climbed upward. At the top, Hermione found herself on a spacious lawn, right at the castle's gates. The giant checked to make sure everyone was there, then knocked three times on the massive door.